The Die-ary of Ree
by KelliCola
Summary: Is it really a diary! Hell no, but you know the title is awesome. Follow Ree - my Lone Wanderer - as she goes from timid Vault Girl, to freakishly talented Alien Captive and every other title in between! ((Possible pairings, just play it by ear))


**_I have a problem. I mean, this is the most bubble-gummy, overly-detailed shit I have ever written or ever wanted to write. My characters in Fallout are usually evil incarnate but since I recently got into Fallout 3 so hardcore, I had this urge to do something about it and wrote this. Added a little…well I guess twist that honestly has nothing to do with the plot of the story just bare with me please._**

**_Review, fav, follow. Do whatever you have to just let me know what you think._**

**_P.S.: _**_my character is Asian with really hollow cheeks and light-light pink hair in the **Prim-N'-Proper** hairstyle_

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><p><em><strong>Name:<strong> Regina 'Ree' Davenport…**Karma:** Good/Defender…**Level:**4…**Armor:** Tunnel Snake Outfit **(adds +5 to Melee)**  
><strong>Main Quest:<strong> Following In His Footsteps_

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><p>"Th-The…the lazy scribe…jumps over…"<p>

"Madam! I believe you have a guest at the front door. A one, Jericho!"

I yelped and rolled out of my creaky bed, falling square on Dogmeats back. The grimy husky yelped himself and reached back, stabbing his nose into my right hip. I groaned at his cold wet nose presses into the tender skin and then push him out of the way, doing a mock push up while he grumbles out of my little room into his. I glare at the filing cabinet as I hit my head on it, cocking a hip as I rub the sore spot.

Yeah, blame the filing cabinet. Completely legit.

I yawned and stretched, scratching the swell of my hip as my shorts sagged. Rifling through my top drawer, I pull out a fresh 101 jumpsuit and a familiar leather jacket. After a few good tugs, I had the suit on, the jacket fitting snug. Still smelt like old aftershave from the Vault. I smiled a little and push my hair back from my face, glancing over at the My Laboratory set I thanked Moira for when I first moved in. The color of the liquid looked like a good three stimpaks.

Heack yeah, I grinned, jogging downstairs. The air rattling in through the haphazard window unit mounted into the wall above my fridge was perfectly cold , sending a nice breeze through the living room, against my surprisingly well preserved Pre-War furniture. Seriously, I need to thank Moira (and possibly pay her a little more), she went through a lot of work to get me this stuff. I guess getting so irradiated I was probably growing gills made her happy enough to put this all together for me.

I jumped when a heavy beating hit the front door and was instantly reminded of the guest waiting for me. I rolled my eyes and straightened my coat, pulling my reading glasses from the coat pocket. My vision instantly enhanced and that made me so sad. I'm possibly legally blind, or so Dad and Jonas joked my whole life.

Ooh, another painful memory.

When I opened the door, I frowned at Jericho, who looked just as annoyed with me as I was with him (though, Nova said he picked on me for one of two possible reasons: he liked me, or he wanted to keep me safe…like a dad). I mocked a pose Butch used to always give me, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"What do you want, Jericho?"

He grunted, pulled his right arm out of the crook of his elbow. In his grubby fingers was a crumpled, worn, piece of paper. There were traces of faded ink on the backside, it had been torn from a book. I took it hesitantly, unfolding it and adjusting my glasses with one hesitant look up at him. As I read, my brow furrowed and then I looked up at him, anger set in my jaw. Well, it was more like aggravation. I don't usually get mad, dad said I didn't have a mean bone in my body.

But ungrateful people really pushed my buttons.

"I'm getting fined for RL-3 catching the Stahls' still on fire," I shook my head. "How would that even work? I mean…wouldn't it explode?"

Jericho growled. "Look, I don't know. Simms made me bring this to you, I could care less bout their shitty moonshine," he sniffed. "Take it up with Simms. That psycho bot of yours should be here shortly."

No sooner had he said that, my shiny psycho bot hovered into view, spouting off military jargin that had to have been buried deep inside his simulated personality chip. I would have to dig around in there some time and fix that. It really screwed things up when we were trying to sneak through Arlington Public Library a couple weeks ago. Raiders spotted us far too easily and caught one of the best in-tact books I could find. Which didn't give me many caps from that Brotherhood Scribe that was working in there. I asked her if I could help her inside the Citadel (some Old World military instillation they had taken up resident in) but she refused that question briskly, then asked for my help.

So confusing.

I let RL-3 inside and he grumbled his way into his charging station upstairs by the medical station I have set up there. I could hear him shut down and ripped up the note, dumping it into the trashcan to my right. I ran a hand through my hair, aggravated beyond believe.

"We need to get away," I sighed at Dogmeat.

He smacked his lips after cleaning himself and I scrunched my nose, walking upstairs to the Nuka-Cola machine (which was possibly the only thing in the house that _wasn't _pristine and pretty). Pressing a random set of numbers, I smiled as a Nuka-Quantum rolled out. After uncapping it, I pocketed the cap and then flicked on the Jukebox. I wonder how Butch always got the one in the Vault to turn on with a bump of his hip. Bastard much be magical.

"…now it gets kind of sad. You see, the kid is looking for her dad, looking for James…"

I swallow, shaking my head and walking over to the laboratory. I set my Nuka down and start to work sucking up the stimpak solution in the cooling vials. Three Dog needs to stop barking about…well, everything. I mean, I get it, he's trying to help me reel my dad back in but dammit, now everyone thinks I'm some dainty Vault Girl looking for her _Daddy_. I am no baby, I just…so what if I miss my dad? But, after spending this much time out here, I'm becoming more invested in all these meanies and want to help them. To be honest, I haven't really looked for him in a few weeks. I've been too caught up in researching ghouls (scientific curiosity I adopted from both parents) and dealing with RL-3 and trying to help Walter fix the pipes and the water treatment plant. It's been…well, hell is putting it lightly. I don't know, maybe I don't want to find him.

I shook my head and slammed both hands down on the table, shoulders bunching around my ears. I closed my eyes and rolled my head around on my neck, getting back to work. No, I wanted to find my father. That was the whole point in doing…any of this.

As I capped my final stimpak, I heard Dogmeat shuffling around by the front door. I leaned over the railing and smiled, seeing him looking at me expectantly. "Fine," I grinned a little wider. "I wanna go out too. Maybe we can go exploring?"

He barked and RL-3 began to hum, his long 'legs' stretching out languidly. "RL-3 reporting for duty, sir!"

"I-I'm a woman, we've been over this a lot."

"I am on the lookout for targets, sir!"

I sighed, grabbing my stimpaks. "I'm done arguing with him."

He was crazy.

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><p><strong>Barter: <strong>17**, Big Guns: **15**, Energy Weapons: **15**, Explosives: **30**, Lockpick: **30**, Medicine: **31**, Melee: **27**, Repair: **30**, Science: **40**, Small Guns: **15**, Sneak: **32**, Speech: **40**, Unarmed: **15

**(S: **8 **P:** 5 **E: **5 **C: **6 **I: **8 **A: **5 **L: **5**)**


End file.
